Memoirs
by Logos Minus Pity
Summary: A one-shot of Malak and Revan's final battle on the Star Forge with memory interludes.  LSF Revan with implied Revan/Bastila


**Memoirs**

* * *

><p>Legal Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Knights of the Old Republic. Lucas Arts and Bioware do.<p>

* * *

><p><em>You might query, in deep surprise, "Knights of the Old Republic? That's kind of old, isn't it!" And indeed, my astute reader, you would be right. I recently began playing KOTOR again, and was struck by this bit of inspiration while flying cross-country. It tickled me enough that I felt compelled to write it if I could. And between my in-flight times and the time spent sitting in airports, I was able to so.<em>

_Ergo, here you are: a single-shot story, taking place during the final battle between Revan and Malak on the Star Forge, with a Light Side, female Revan who pursued romance options with Bastila._

_For all of you KOTOR players out there, I hope you enjoy! And now, may I present, "__Memoirs__"._

_~Logos Minus Pity_

* * *

><p><em><strong>One<strong>_

She felt the life—felt the very Force—drain out of the preserved Jedi and into Malak, felt the dark energy of the Star Forge swirl around him, as if delighted at such twisted use if the Force. For a brief moment, her mind was assaulted by the blasphemous method of death, and her vision distorted as room changed around her.

_She turned to face strike team. She had to give credit where it was due; it was a daring, unexpected move for the Jedi to send a small group of their finest, including even their precious Bastila, to take her prisoner. It also signaled just how desperate the Council was in the face of her unstoppable onslaught. _

"_You cannot win, Revan."_

_Bastila's voice was hard, speaking of the confidence of numbers. It made her smirk beneath her mask. She could still hear the waver of uncertainty beneath the woman's battle meditation. Even with their numbers, Bastila feared they would be unable to match her. It was a well-justified fear._

_She extended her lightsaber with casual grace. If they thought she could be subdued so easily…well, they were about to find out, weren't they?_

The memory abruptly vanished from her mind and her eyes. She blinked rapidly, but clearly only a bare second had passed in the real world, or Malak would have surely impaled her on his lightsaber. He instead stood by the kolto tank where he had just drained the life from the trapped Jedi, using his prisoner's vitality to restore his own. The death of the Jedi still echoed through the room, even as it was being absorbed by the terrible thrumming of Star Forge. As for Malak, he turned back to face her, now rejuvenated by the stolen life force.

Their blades clashed again, energy crackling as her two sabers vied for dominance against his. He was physically bigger and stronger than her, but she was faster and more agile. Irritated with her glancing strikes, he attempted to Force choke her again. She batted off the malignant Force power, countering with a Force wave. It did no good. He held too much power from the Star Forge. So much power, all from a single, ancient satellite. Having grown tired of their current dueling bout, Malak moved toward another kolto tank with a Jedi, but Revan moved faster. She reached the tank and, uttering a short prayer to the Force, threw a lightsaber at the glass wall. It shattered into pieces; without the kolto to sustain his body, the Jedi quickly passed on to the Force.

_**Two**_

_ Malak's loud and distinctive laugh brought Revan out of her reverie. She turned to look at him. "So much power, Revan! It is unbelievable, truly."_

_She looked up to see him playing with bolts of Force lightning in his hand, felt him tapping deep into the river of dark energy that constantly flowed through the Star Forge. It was one of the reasons why she never brought any other Sith adepts here to the Star Forge itself, and why she and Malak rarely docked here themselves. It was too easy of a temptation, and had too much a life of its own for her comfort._

"_Don't use the Star Forge to increase your command of the Force, Malak."_

_The bolts died out, and he turned toward her, his jaw clenched with emotion at the calmly issued order. "Why not?"_

_She had been turning back to her fleet report when he opened his mouth. She was not in the mood for this right now. She had a war to win. "We've been over this, _my apprentice_."_

_She let her choice of words convey the unspoken aggravation. Malak had been questioning her decisions and orders on a more frequent basis as of late, and she was rapidly loosing her tolerance for the matter. But it seemed as though her patience was to be run out on this day._

"_No, I am done with taking this for an answer. Why not?" repeated Malak a second time, the air palpable now with his irritation. "This Star Forge…why can you not see it for it is? It is a _gift_, Revan! It is a gift beyond our wildest dreams, and yet you persist in only using the merest fraction of its power. You build toy fleets when it can provide you with so much more!"_

_The words that emanated from behind Revan's mask were icily cold and tinged with disgust. "I have told you this before, Malak: the Star Forge may indeed present greater powers, but we would be naïve to believe that it would not pull those powers from beneath our feet no different than it did to the ancient Rakatans. We use it only as we must. No more."_

"_You fool!" he cried, now clearly enraged at her dismissal. "Why will you not use the Star Forge to its true maxim of potential! You restrain and weaken me just as much as you by your obstinacy!"_

"_It is _weak_ to rely on a crutch such as the Forge for your own power, and __you__ are weak to want it!"_

_Malak bared his teeth in a snarl of anger. "I will not stand back and let you ruin the Sith with your outdated traditionalism! I will not let you hoard all of the power to yourself—and I will use the Star Forge to prove it to you!"_

_Malak's lightsaber flew into his hand, the red beam coming to life. A cold laugh emanated from Revan as she felt the Dark Side of the Force swirl about her former comrade, channeled through the willing malice of the Star Forge. Her laughter died off after a few moments._

"_You think…that just because you found some new…_pretty_…Force toy that you can rule the Sith? Even with the Star Forge, you are no match for me." She then reached up to remove her mask._

_It had been months since anyone had seen the face behind the mask, and it was a visage that was not of the same Revan. He face had become warped by the Dark Side of the Force—the skin was a pale grey with bright blue veins shooting through it, and her irises had long since turned an unnatural shade of mustard yellow, with long black slits for pupils._

_Her own lightsaber activated, the red beam providing an answer all its own. When Malak was silent, she let out a second, scornful laugh. "Too scared? I always did beat you in swordplay."_

_Malak let out a shout of rage and jumped through the air toward her, propelled by the Force. Their blades met in a crackle of energy and light, as the fight for dominance began._

_Whereas Malak's motions were filled with an overwhelming rage, power, and a burning desire to destroy, Revan's parries seemed almost lazily casual and slow by comparison, as if there was a hidden, deadly grace in each deliberate action. Frustrated at being unable to penetrate her defense, Malak let loose another yell and threw a blast of Force lightning. Reven deflected it with a sweeping motion of her hand, but a stray bolt drove a nick into the crimson armor of her chest plate. Patience was now gone. It was time to end this farce of a battle. She pressed forward, quickly reversing the defensive role of the fight, and with a few agile strikes, she knocked loose the saber from Malak's grip. The weapon clattered to the floor loudly, but before Malak could even reach out, she blasted him ten feet backward with a wave of pure Force._

_He fell to the ground, stunned for a moment. Revan walked calmly up to him, pointing her lightsaber down at his neck as he froze beneath her gaze._

"_P-please, Revan," Malak begged unashamedly, conscious of only the burning hatred in those yellow eyes. "We're friends, there's no need to …"_

"_Friends?" asked Revan, her voice cruelly incredulous. "We're _friends_?"_

_She pushed her lightsaber closer to his face. "Tell me, _Lord_ Malak, who rules the Sith?"_

"_You do!" he cried out. _

"_Don't ever forget that." _

_Malak began to let out a sigh of relief as Revan deactivated her lightsaber, at which point Revan grabbed him up by his collar, readjusting her sword arm._

_Malak's eyes widened at the sudden feel of a cold lightsaber hilt against the skin of his jaw. Revan leaned over him, bringing her face only inches away from him. "And don't ever make the mistake of thinking of any of my actions as weak."_

_And then she turned on her lightsaber._

_Malak was screaming before he hit the floor, his lower mandible completely vaporized by the beam of energy. Revan sneered at his writhing form for a few seconds before signaling the two guards at the door who had remained silent and immobile throughout the whole of the fight between their masters._

"_Take him to the med bay and get him cleaned up. I want him out of my sight." _

_The guards rushed to carry out her orders, quickly leaving her in solitude. She gave a mental count to ten and then collapsed to her knees, shaking, feeling the spirit of the Star Forge pulse through the floor and the air and into her blood, whispering dark desires of promised power to her mind. After a minute, she rose again, replacing the mask on her face, shielding her from the world. _

She felt the Star Forge pulse even now in her blood. It beat in her ears as if it could taste the memories on her skin. She could nearly hear the whispers start to speak in the back of her mind as she engaged Malak yet again. It seemed that the death of Jedi here, whether by Malak's greedy hand or by her releasing lightsabers, had repercussive effects on her trapped memories.

Whether this was from the Star Forge or somewhat else remained unknown, but even in the calm void she maintained while in battle, the whispers her memories had awakened her to prevailed, tiny streams of smoke-like Force curling away from the column of power that was Malak and floating over her body.

_We could help you,_ the entire station seemed to throb. _We _want_ to help you, just accept us_.

She gritted her teeth, and forcibly pushed the call to the back of her mind. She would win this battle on her own terms. She would not fall onto the support of the Star Forge, no matter how tempting it seemed. Engaging her Force speed, she sprinted to the next kolto tank, determined to thwart Malak even as she threw her lightsaber a second time.

_**Three**_

_ She walked out of the Jedi Council chambers, chagrined on the talked down she had received. Here, the Jedi Masters sat and talked, talking and talking while the galaxy steadily crumbled around them. And yet they had the gall to chastise her for choosing to go to war. They were allowing her to speak before the enclave, at least. They would be surprised, she knew already. She could sense it behind their eyes, the solid belief that she and Alek were a minority of warmongers within the Order. How out of touch and short-sighted they were. The murmurs of action had long since been stirring among the knights and padawans; Revan would not seek to convert those who did not want to go—that was, after all, why she had long since given up arguing with the Council—she would merely provide a channel by which those who did want to make a difference could follow and act._

_ Alek pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, concern creasing his brow as he took in Revan's clenched jaw line._

_ "Revan, did they not…?"_

_ She waved down his concerns. A deep breath was inhaled and then let out. "It is all right. It is just the old argument, as ever. It matters not; we are allowed to speak as we will, as long as we do not incite or pressure."_

_ Revan shook her head in an attempt to clear it better. She would be speaking before the enclave in less than an hour. "Go notify who you can, Malak—my public speech will go as planned."_

_ As she turned her head to go, Revan caught sight of a padawan watching her. The young women quickly averted her steel gray eyes once they met with Revan's own blue-gray stormy ones. Her mind supplied a name as the Jedi apprentice walked away, though Alek spoke first._

_ "Bastila Shan," he said, sounding pensive. "They say her gift for battle meditation could be the strongest in generations. She would be a welcome addition in the war effort, would she not? I can try to speak with her."_

_ "No, don't bother."_

_ Alek's brow furrowed with confusion, but Revan spoke with a quiet confidence. "She is one of the Council loyalists. She will never go against their proclamations. And besides, no incitement or pressuring, remember? The Council dislikes us enough as it stands."_

She was using too much of her reserves in the Force. She could feel her muscles begin to burn with the exertion, so she quickly stabbed another hyper-battle stim into a leg. Though she was not big on using the stimulants, Revan knew that she could not afford to lag behind in this battle. The stimulant was enough for the moment. She still outpaced Malak, engaging him in a few more quick blows before dodging her way to the next kolto tank, this time slashing directly with her saber to break open the tank and give the Jedi within freedom to rejoin the Force.

_**Four**_

_War was indiscriminate. This was a lesson she, and all of the Jedi, were learning the hard way. War did not care who it killed, injured and maimed. It did not care about the swathe of destruction it carved in its wake. The horror would occur regardless of who fought, it was simply a matter now of trying to contain its radius of involvement. The longer the war continued on, the more people and worlds were drawn into its wake, like a black hole, voraciously devouring whatever came in its gravitation ring._

_ She could only do her best to end it now. There would be costs, undoubtedly. Lives would be lost and eaten away on both sides, some innocent, and some not so much. But it would be worth the cost. To play by the "laws of chivalry", to try to conserve every single life…they would lose if they played the game like that. Already the Mandalorians had shown them this over, and over, and over again._

_ Revan turned around when the armor engineer entered the bridge._

_ "Commander, I just finished it."_

_ "Excellent. Let me see it."_

_ He held out the battle helmet—mask, really—cautiously, almost reverently toward her. She inspected it closely once it was in her hands, pleased with the work._

_ "If I may, Commander…" Revan looked up, nodding to let the engineer speak. "Why this design? It's Mandalorian. Why would you want to wear Mandalorian inspired armor?"_

_ Revan held her tongue patiently, aware that nearly every worker on the bridge had stopped to listen to her response, all equally curious._

_ "Because I want them to remember. I want them to remember not just that we won, but that they can never win against us. I will use their own weapons, their own beliefs, and their own culture against them. I will sacrifice my face so that it can become an icon of their fear. I will do whatever is necessary to protect the Republic, and to erase the Mandalorian threat to the galaxy permanently."_

_ The engineer bowed to her, admiration and awe now shining clearly in his eyes. He saluted smartly. "Commander, I'll leave your new armor in your quarters once I've finished it."_

_ She bowed her head back to him, and turned back to face the stars. War was about sacrifice. She would sacrifice whatever she needed in order to end this._

Revan pulled from the deep reserves of her inner strength, launching another pressing attack at Malak, trying to end the battle now. The longer it wore on, the more it swung in his favor. She had to end it—to end him—before she lost what little advantage she had. And there were still far too many suspended Jedi stationed about the room, each one a sitting duck for Malak to use his perverted Force powers on. When Malak disengaged to head toward a tank, she only managed to get around him and to the tank first just barely in time.

_**Five**_

_She ran one gloved hand down the sweat and tear-stained face of Jedi who was chained down before her. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, almost loving. He hadn't been one she had known. He had been one of the foolish ones, one of those who had stood by the mandate of the Council and stayed behind while she had gone on to do what had needed to be done and finish the war. She had seen the raw anger in his eyes while he had been conscious, which was well. It meant that with another week or so of such conditioning, he would see the truth in the Sith way. She felt the eyes of the interrogator—executioner, really, based on his prisoner conversion record—on her._

_ "This war is a necessary course, but I detest the needless loss of what precious few Force users there already are."_

_ "But…my Lady, the Jedi_—_"_

_ She turned her head toward the young Sith interrogator who had spoken out. He was young, one of the ones who had been recruited directly to the Academy on Korriban with no prior training. He had spat out the word "Jedi" with the force of someone who deeply detested not simply the Jedi, but also those fallen Jedi who had followed their way to the Academy after its construction. Ah yes, though she had far greater matters to regularly attend to than the petty squabbles of Sith apprentices at the Academy, she knew of the inner politics of the Sith; and even if she did not, she could read it all in glance from the interrogator who stood before her, in the way his emotions swirled about him and his hatred boiled at the Jedi, former or otherwise. It was a sore matter among those who came to the Sith Academy with no prior training in the Force. They both respected and envied their fallen Jedi brethren, respecting them in fear for their already tremendous control of the Force, and bitterly, hatefully, envying them for them for their automatic passageway into the Academy. Jealousy fostered a necessary competition among the Sith, but it at times needed a guiding hand in it._

_ The interrogator had long since grown silent when her masked face had turned toward him. In the ever-stretching silence, beads of sweat had begun to appear across his forward, lending a pallid sheen to his visage. She let him sweat for a bit longer before she spoke._

_ "Your passion is admirable, pupil, but is spent without need. The Jedi are undoubtedly our enemies in this war, yes. But it is so much more than simply killing them like common soldiers. They can _become_ so much more than common soldiers with only the right touch." _

_She walked toward the other Jedi prisoner in the room, a woman who, when Revan placed a hand under her chin to tilt her head up, remained stoically silent, in contrast to when her companion had been awake and shouting curses._

_ "Only if they refuse to bend…" She trailed off, looking at the eyes of the Jedi Knight before her. Even after all the bouts of relentless torture, her pale green eyes held neither defiance nor anger, but only a simple pool of sorrow and acceptance. She knew, she instinctively knew, that this one would die before she ever forsook her vows to the Council. So be it. "…must we break them."_

_ She brought her other hand to rest atop the Jedi's head, and with an almost casual twist of her arms, suddenly jerked the head at an impossible angle sideways. The sickening crack echoed in the silence of the room, and the Jedi went still in her chains, now lifeless._

The acrid taste of bile choked the back of her throat, making it hard to breath for a terrible moment. She swallowed it down forcefully, gagging at the grotesque nature of the memory. Doubts plagued her, gnawed at the edge of her conscience. How could she have done that, become that person? Could absolution ever be granted for such…such an abomination?

She shuddered, still trying to throw off the memory and refocus her battle instincts. It was impossibly hard to do. And while she was busy mentally refocusing, Malak had seized the opportunity and charged toward kolto-suspended Jedi. Revan panicked, dashing toward that end of the room. But even as she threw a lightsaber she knew it wasn't soon enough. Malak raised his arms and drained the life from the helpless victim.

_**Six**_

_ If only she had been strong enough to defeat Malak onboard the Leviathan. If only she had gone back through the blast doors to aid Bastila. If only she had possessed the power in her to stop Bastila from flying back away atop the Rakatan temple. If only…if only she wasn't so weak, and such a shell of the former legendary woman, Revan._

_Her heart was consumed by a bitter mixture of guilt and hopeless anger at herself. Just how much of this entire mess was she responsible for? She had led Malak down the Dark Side, she had brought the Star Forge back to life, and she felt, with a sense of dread sickness, that she was ultimately responsible for Bastila's fall as well. Had not she been the one to press her, to urge her to reconsider the Council's teachings? "Just this one thing" she had said before, urging her to open up about their feelings. And it had worked, if only briefly. But was that not the start to it? Break one rule, pull but one stone from the base of the building, and the rest will soon come tumbling down after._

_ Jolee had sensed her inner anguish, had tried to console her, but his words rang hollow in her ears. All she could see was Bastila, her aura corrupted with the Dark Side of the Force, and feel that the gateway to that fall and the root source to that corrosion had been through her._

It had gone on too long. Even with the stimulants and med packs, she was physically exhausted, whereas Malak need only drain another life and have his strength easily replenished.

She was too far away compared to Malak, too far to throw her lightsaber and break the tank, too tired to run faster, or to even call upon the Force to speed her movements. She was too spent in this endless battle against her former friend, comrade, and apprentice. She wanted to scream out in frustration at her weakness. But instead, she could only helplessly extend her hand as Malak reached the kolto tank first. He extended both of his hands, and drained the life from another defenseless Jedi.

_**Seven**_

_ Bastila screamed as Malak channeled another burst of Force lightning into her body. He relished her agonized cries. Sometimes they were just screams, but sometimes she screamed out for people or things. It was always interesting to see who or what people called out for. He stopped when she named a person he did not expect though. He repeated it for her, at first in curious disbelief._

_ "Did I hear you correctly, Bastila? 'Revan'?"_

_ She turned her face and pursed her lips, unwilling to respond. But he could see it there, even now glimmering in Bastila's eyes. A glint of something that went beyond what even the Council condoned. A deep laugh began to thrum from within his chest. "I can't believe it! Don't tell me you, of all people, have actually fallen for…? Ahahaha. This is too rich."_

_ A faint blush possibly colored her cheeks, but it could have just as easily been the light. Either way, she met his eyes firmly, silencing his laughter. "She will not give up. She will defeat you, Malak. It is only a matter of time."_

_ In an uncharacteristic fit of uncontrolled rage, rather than using the Force, he backhanded the young Jedi across the jaw hard. He felt no amusement now. Nonetheless, this would ultimately make things far easier for him. The emotion, the question, the doubts that Revan had all unwittingly planted in Bastila's mind would be Bastila's undoing here. They would serve as the trickle to precede the flood that he would unleash in her. With enough time and persistence, she would crack. And besides, he would never be satisfied with merely destroying anything that Revan held dear—destruction was easy, but in the case of his long-time companion, too easy. He would not rest until he held everything that Revan once called her own, until he had corrupted it, made it his instead. And then, then he would dispose of his one-time master once and for all._

_ "You fool woman. You trust Revan of all people? Well, where is she now? Tell me, where is your savior Jedi in her shining white robes of light?"_

_ Bastila continued to hold his eyes steadily, but he could see the tiniest flicker of doubt cloud them for a brief second. He would relish every moment of making her fall. He threw more Force lightning at her, continuing without relent until her screams silenced and the pain drove her unconscious._

Revan and Malak stared at each other, neither moving. She need not ask to know that they had shared that vision, and that she had been looking into his memories but a second earlier. For a moment, they were both taken aback, and then the full understanding of what was held within that memory crashed down around her, and the blood roared in her ears.

All of the swirling Force energy from the Star Forge that Malak had steadily been tapping into promptly dried out from under him, and in the same breath it flooded upward to engulf Revan in a pillar of dark glory. Yet Revan did not even register this, did not even feel the malevolent power latching on to her open heart. All her mind knew was the pale face of Malak before her, and the all consuming wrath that ordered her to make him pay justice for his crimes. She screamed out a wordless battle cry and launched forward, red spots clouding her vision with battle rage.

Her body was limitless, knowing neither fatigue nor restraint. Bereft of the backing of the Star Forge and taken aback by the sudden inhuman ferocity of Revan's offensive, Malak was forced into a frantic defense, his parries and stops becoming increasingly more jagged and rushed, until he was at last overpowered. His lightsaber flew out of his to skid across the hard floor as a blast of Force threw him on his back. Revan towered over him, crossing her sabers over his throat in a decapitation X-form. She relished the final look of fear in his eyes before she began her final executioner's movement.

"NO!"

_NO!_

Two screams rang out—one in the air and one in her head, and neither from herself. She halted mid swing, both lightsabers hovering dangerously close above the pulsating arteries in Malak's exposed neck. She need merely finish extending both of her arms outward, and the swing would sever his head with ease. She felt the echo of a different call run through her mind.

_Revan, no! _

Someone important. Someone special.

_Please! Don't let it take you!_

Bastila!

She looked down at her arms, became abruptly aware of the corrupting power of the Star Forge running over her like a second mantle, urging her gleefully to give in to the seed of hate it had planted in her heart. And yet as soon as she realized this, as soon as she became aware of what was occurring, it was as though a switch had been flipped, and the dark forces intuitively knew she had regained herself. The rage unlatched itself from her chest and power of the Star Forge sloughed off her like oil on water, falling back toward Malak.

When she continued to stand over him, frozen, he used his own Force wave to throw her back off of him, immediately regaining his lightsaber and evening the tide of battle yet again. Not wanted to take any further chances, though, he ran toward the last remaining Jedi suspended in a kolto tank. And yet again, Revan was too far away.

This time, though, she reached out with her senses, feeling the flicker of life that just barely kept the Jedi suspended in the world of the living. As her mind roved over that flicker, feeling the Force that flowed through that life, it seemed to speak back to her. It was a soft voice, barely audible over the constant roar of the Dark Side of the Force the Star Forge provided, but it was there.

_Finish it. Let me move on. Do not let me become a stepping stone for a Sith Lord like my brethren._

She held his life force in her mind; like a candle flame, she need merely blow on it with gust of the Force, and it would be gone, taken into the wind, and into the Force. She need merely extend her will…

_**Eight**_

_ She looked out at the vast array of Republic forces assembled before her as they sped toward the commanding cruiser in their small transporter ship. Never in all of her life had she seen so many war ships in a single parsect of space—and all soon to be under her command; she, a young, barely christened Jedi Knight, and one who had defied the will of the Order at that. But the Republic was willing and ready to follow her. And she had her support, even from some Jedi._

_ She glanced at Alek and could not help but smile warmly. Who knew where this war would lead all of them? Perhaps death, but perhaps not. At least she had a tried and true friend at her side._

_ "I'm glad you're here with me, Alek. Truthfully, I don't know what I would do without you."_

_ "Revan…you mean more than anything or anyone else in the galaxy. I will always be by your side, alright?"_

_ She turned up toward Alek, picking up a hint of…something…in his voice. Her storm grey eyes met with his bright blue gaze. His look was both intent and apprehensive, and she instinctively knew that he was waiting for a particular response from her, but what that was, she did not know._

_ She was smart, charismatic, talented, and very gifted, but Revan was not everything, and she was very inexperienced in some areas of life and adulthood. In that moment, she had but a second to aimlessly ponder what it was that she saw in Alek's soulful gaze, and then the moment was gone when a call patched in from Admiral Dorchef. It would only be far later that she would realize and recognize the look in Alek's eyes and wonder how she had not seen when her best friend and constant companion had fallen in love with her, and by then it would be too late for both of them._

She felt the spirit of the Jedi run through her as he became one with the Force, and his touch revitalized somewhat in her. She felt energy return to limbs and her mind. She was not as good as new, no, but this small boost would be enough. It was time to finish things.

The last clashing of lightsabers was terrible, fueled by desperation on both sides. They were nothing now but Revan and Malak, as they always had been. In the end, she won out. She won out, she thought half bitterly, as she always had.

Revan knelt by her former comrade as he lay dying from the mortal wound she had delivered to his chest. No amount of kolto or Force healing could save him now, and they both knew it. But still she knelt, and even held his head softly, letting him speak his dying words to her. She owed him that much, at least.

"Savior, conqueror, hero, villain…you are all things, Revan, and yet you are nothing. In the end you belong to neither the light nor the darkness. You will forever stand alone."

In that moment, all of the paths of what might have been stretched out before her mind, made as clear as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. In one scenario, she and Malak stood as lovers over the dead body of Bastila. In another, she struck down Malak, taking Bastila as her own apprentice. And in another still, she stood alone above the bodies of them both, having ended Malak after he killed Bastila in a moment of passionate rage. But in all of these streams, one thing was certain; their three fates were inextricably intertwined.

And then, as Malak died, his soul passing out of his husk of a body, the vision faded from her eyes, and she was herself again. Alone. There was no joy in this victory. No sense of vindication or even relief, just an all-encompassing feeling of sadness. She bowed her head low, staying motionless even as tremors rocked the station, until the doors finally whisked open, and Bastila entered, her eyes concerned and body rigid with tension.

She walked up softly and placed one hand on the kneeling apostate's shoulder, squeezing gently. Her accented voice was urgent, but soft. "It's done, Revan. Now come. We have to go before the Republic fleet destroys the station. Everyone else is waiting at the Ebon Hawk. Come with me."

Bastila held out her hand. It was a simple, open gesture, and Revan felt the concern as well as the rock steady sense of strength and love communicated through their bond and in her somber eyes. It grounded her.

She took the extended arm, let herself be hauled upright, and continued to hold that hand tightly as they raced back through the Star Forge. Perhaps Malak was right; she was many things, and yet nothing. But she was sure of one thing as she and Bastila half walked and half ran up into the Ebon Hawk: her story did not end here.

_Fin._


End file.
